


Victory and Defeat

by romanticalgirl



Category: Fantastic Four (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-14
Updated: 2013-04-14
Packaged: 2017-12-08 12:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/761339
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/romanticalgirl/pseuds/romanticalgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Happy birthday <a href="http://sionnain.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://sionnain.livejournal.com/"><b>sionnain</b></a>! I know you like a little bit of non with your con, so I hope you enjoy this! Special thanks to <a href="http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/"></a><b>inlovewithnight</b> for hand-holding and betaing.</p><p>Originally posted 6-14-07</p>
    </blockquote>





	Victory and Defeat

**Author's Note:**

> Happy birthday [](http://sionnain.livejournal.com/profile)[**sionnain**](http://sionnain.livejournal.com/)! I know you like a little bit of non with your con, so I hope you enjoy this! Special thanks to [](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://inlovewithnight.livejournal.com/)**inlovewithnight** for hand-holding and betaing.
> 
> Originally posted 6-14-07

Victor sprawls in his chair as Reed sways in front of him, still weak and half-dazed from his fall. He’s on his knees, hands cuffed behind his back, kneeling in front of Victor, across the room from the chair. The chair is ready, has been since Victor realized the advantages of Reed’s new genetic configuration offered him, but he knows he has time and he wants to enjoy the moment. Savor his victory.

“It’s never enough, is it, Reed?” He sneers at Reed’s earnest expression, his confused and wounded eyes. “Never enough knowledge, never enough money, never enough power.” He sits up, leans in and strokes his metallic fingers along Reed’s jaw. “Even for you, it’s never enough.”

“Victor…”

He grasps Reed’s jaw, feeling the slide of bone and flesh beneath his fingers. He can see the flash of pain in the second before Reed’s power kicks in and he laughs. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with, do you, Richards? No idea _who_.” He releases Reed and shakes his head. “But then, you never did.”

Victor stands, walking around Reed. He’s careful not to touch him, just crowds too close and watches Reed struggle to remain still.

“You’re not the only brilliant one, you know, Reed. The difference between the two of us is that I’ve chosen to make money instead of better mankind.” He sneers and squats down in front of Reed, close enough to see the fear. “But this…change? This new life you’ve given us, Reed? It’s given me new direction. New motivation.” He curves his fingers around Reed’s chin again, gently this time. “You’ve inspired me, Reed.”

“Victor…”

“Oh, please. Spare me your speeches, your honest sincerity. You’ve given me power, Reed. And maybe you’re content to just use it to take what you’re given, but I have every intention of using it to take what I deserve.” He laughs and leans closer, tasting fear and adrenaline and something else on Reed’s breath, that same sense that fills the air when Reed’s on the brink of discovery. “What I want, Reed.”

Victor pulls away, amused as Reed sways forward after him. He gets to his feet easily and circles Reed again. He stops behind him and runs his hands along the hard metal holding Reed’s hands captive. “The cuffs are my own invention…well, with a little help from you. They’re derived from one of your formulas. You’re so close, Reed. This one inhibits your powers, renders them nearly null and void. Not really useful to you, I suppose, but surprisingly beneficial to your enemies.”

Reed turns his head, surprise still bright in his eyes. “Enemy?”

Victor laughs again, shaking his head as he fists his fingers in Reed’s hair and forces his head back. “What do you think we are, Richards? Roommates? Friends?” He leans down, his voice a vicious snarl. “You did this to me. Cost me my humanity. Cost me my flesh.” He tilts Reed’s head back further. “So I’ll take it out in a pound of yours.”

Reed shudders, a strange wave-like motion of his flesh that ripples across his face, shivers through his skin.

“It shouldn’t be a problem though, should it, Reed?” He tugs harder at Reed’s hair, the distance from the cuffs leaving the skin with a hint of elasticity. “You’ve got plenty to spare.”

“Victor, whatever it is…”

“You still don’t get it, do you, Reed?” Victor jerks Reed’s head back farther still, bending it unnaturally. “The only sounds you get to make are the ones I force out of you against your will.”

He releases Reed’s hair, watching as it slowly settles back into place. He shakes his head at the sight and places his hand carefully on the back of Reed’s neck. “And believe me, Reed. You _will_ make them.”

He shoves hard, sending Reed falling forward in a jerky collapse. His face hits the floor as he struggles against the cuffs to catch his fall. Victor laughs and squats down again, his hand in the small of Reed’s back.

“Uniform looks good on you, Reed.” He slides his hand along Reed’s spine to his neck, curling his fingers under Reed’s collar. He yanks him back, smiling as Reed falls to the floor, his back arched over the cuffs. “Really brings out your eyes.”

Victor skirts his hand along Reed’s collar, finding the zipper and tugging it down. Reed makes a noise, a thick protest deep in his throat. Victor pushes the fabric back, exposing Reed’s pale skin from his neck to his waist.

“V-Victor.” Reed’s voice shakes and Victor looks at him, watching emotions flicker across Reed’s eyes. He recognizes fear and revels in it; Reed’s helpless here in ways that he’s grown unaccustomed to, even in this short time. Helpless here in other ways that he’s never known. “You can’t do this, Victor. We’re _friends_.”

“We were never friends, Reed. You were just a pawn. A tool. Brilliant and clueless. I used you, Reed. Always.”

“No.” His voice shakes and Victor reaches out, running his fingers – split flesh and metal – down Reed’s sternum. Reed grits his teeth and shakes his head. “No.”

“You’re brilliant, Reed, but do you think anyone really likes you? Grimm sticks with you when you’re doing something for him, keeping him employed. Sue can run roughshod over you, and her brother is just an idiot looking for fame. No one is with you for you, Reed.” His fingers skate lower, tracing the light spattering of hair across Reed’s abdomen. “College was my time, Reed. Women. Money. Alcohol. Power. You were just the icing on the cake. Brilliant but stupid, not seeing what was right in front of your face. Never do.” He leans in, his breath hot against Reed’s face. “Do you see me now, Reed?”

“We did things together. Christmas…bars….”

“Here’s the secret to keeping your employees happy, Reed.” Victor lets his hand slide lower, beneath the uniform to Reed’s cock. It’s half-erect, as ambivalent and uncertain as Reed himself – disbelief and desire, not-quite shattered illusions and reality. “You give them what they want. What they _really_ want. The things you see them longing for, not the things they say. They say they want money, when what they really want is sex. They say they want power, when what they really want is money. They say they want fame, but what they really want is power. They say they want recognition, respectability, but what they really want is to not be the social outcast they really are.”

He strokes Reed slowly, pressure constant and sure. He can feel Reed’s body respond despite the flash of pain, the realization in his eyes. Reed wants this, even as he says he doesn’t, just like he says he doesn’t want the fortune and fame that come with the blue uniform that’s now haphazardly hanging on his body, held in place by the position of his body and the thick cuffs. Reed wants this and hates himself for it, more than he’ll ever hate Victor.

It’s almost too easy when your enemy would rather fight himself.

“You give them what they want, Reed.” He leans in, his mouth angled just above Reed, allowing Victor to see Reed’s eyes, see the flare of desire that sparks through him like he’s borrowed Johnny’s power for an instant. “And the real talent lies in knowing what that is.”

He lets his tongue skate over Reed’s lips as his hand tightens slightly, causing Reed to rise off the floor, shoulders and heels bearing his weight as he arches further into Victor’s hand.

“Which is a talent I’ve always had.”

Reed’s eyes nearly close, and Victor can see the struggle to keep them open, to not look away. Victor tightens his hand more, increasing the speed of it.

What will bother you more, Reed? That you’re going to come because of me?” He runs his thumb across the head of Reed’s cock, feeling the heat of Reed’s flesh against the cool metal. “Or how much you’re going to want me to fuck you afterwards?”

“This…this isn’t you, Victor.” His breath catches and he shakes his head as best he can with his movements restricted. “This is…this _isn’t_ you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Reed. This is me. Finally.” He bites Reed’s lower lip, his teeth sinking into the tender flesh, feeling the elastic give of it as it refuses to break beneath the pressure. He snarls and jerks his head back, feeling the skin give and then snap back, red and swollen but unbroken. “This is me, Reed, without the niceties of society. This is me, the man you called friend.” He increases his speed, watching as Reed’s body tenses even further, as he fights to keep control of himself. “You were wrong about _so_ many things, weren’t you, Reed?”

He leans in again and runs his tongue over the swollen flesh and then kisses Reed, hard and deep and possessive. Reed groans and arches up again, tenuous hold ready to break as Victor punishes Reed’s mouth with his teeth and lips and tongue. Reed shudders and tries to pull back, trapped and unable to do so. Victor laughs against the kiss, taking it deeper as his hand slides along Reed’s length, nearly as punishing as his tongue.

Victor pulls back, teeth catching at Reed’s lower lip again, worrying the skin until it finally parts between his teeth, feel blood stain coppery against his gums. Reed shudders again, mouth open and gasping, his body fighting against the cuffs, against the restrictive metal holding his power in check. Even with that, Victor can see the strain, the rubbery pull of skin as Reed finally comes, body at sharp angles to the floor.

Victor pulls back, watching as Reed spends himself. As a shiver of release goes through Reed, Victor releases him and brings his hand up, trailing his fingers across Reed’s split lip, painting it with come. “Taste it, Reed. My victory. Your defeat. Amazing that it’s the same, isn’t it?”

Reed licks his lips on instinct as the tension seeps out of him. His expressive eyes are shuttered, shut down, nearly black with denial. Victor slides his damp fingers down Reed’s body, drawing patterns of wet on his stomach. He feels the ripples of reaction in Reed’s skin and lets his hand slide up Reed’s leg, pushing Reed’s knees back as he moves between them, spreading them as far as the cuffs allow.

The fabric of Reed’s uniform stretches, altered specifically to meet the needs of Reed’s power. Victor pulls it away, exposing Reed’s skin. Reed’s eyes close, his breath a huff of self-disgust. Victor laughs, the fingers of one hand brushing Reed’s skin while the other unfastens his own slacks.

“It’s humiliating, isn’t it, Reed? Shown up by someone again and again. Even worse though is this, isn’t it? Being at my mercy and liking it. Wanting it..”

Reed grits his teeth, his jaw clenched and tight. He tries to pull away from Victor’s touch, the futile gesture negated as Victor’s finger penetrates him and Reed groans, the sound half pain and half pleasure.

“Victor…st…stop. You can still…still stop. You’re not too…too far g-gone.”

Victor reaches up and tugs away a thick chunk of the skin from his face, exposing the metal flesh beneath. “Typical of you, Reed. Got what you wanted and now you think you don’t have to pay the price.”

“This isn’t…” Reed gasps, his sentence halted as Victor pushes a second finger in, testing the limitations of Reed’s restricted power.

“Isn’t what? What you want?” Victor laughs, thrusting his fingers deeper, watching the mixture of sensations play out across Reed’s expressive face. “You just came all over my hand, Reed. You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“No. Victor. This isn’t…”

He frees his fingers from Reed’s body and shifts closer, the head of his cock against him instead. The shaft is cool and hot all at once, the same malleable and flexible metal of his body, like rigid flesh painted silver. It’s smooth though, the texture of metal and slides in easily, filling Reed enough that he rises off the floor, hips arching and angling so that Victor slides deeper, his own low groan echoing Reed’s.

“Thought you were above lying, Richards. Thought you were the _good_ guy.” He pulls back and begins thrusting, driving deep and hard with every stroke. Reed’s body is tight around him despite his power, and Victor groans again. “Truth, justice and the A-American way.”

“T-that’s Superm-man,” Reed gasps, his body reacting to Victor’s hard movements, falling into rhythm despite his efforts at restraint.

Victor leans in, bracing himself over Reed, watching his reflection in Reed’s wide eyes. “I’m not American.”

“It’s…it’s the American _w-way_.”

Reed nearly chokes as Victor snarls, thrusting even harder. “You’re so smart, Reed, and so _fucking_ stupid.” His fingers dig into the carpet as he pistons his hips, leaning down to bite at Reed’s lips again, groaning at the taste of blood and the flood of heat that pulses through him as he stills, buried deep inside Reed.

He stays there for a moment, a suspended tableau, noting every variable - Reed’s body arched against him, the taste of blood in his mouth, the tight pressure of Reed around him, the pulse of his blood like mercury in his veins. This is it. This is power.

Victor pulls away, sensing more than feeling Reed collapse to the ground. Standing, he barely spares a glance as Reed moans, his body spent and held tense by the cuffs.

“You don’t hate me.” Reed’s voice is surprisingly calm. Victor straightens his clothes and fastens his slacks. “You want to, but you don’t. You can’t.”

Victor moves to the conference table and takes a long drink from his glass of brandy. “Stick to science, Reed. Psychology was never your strong suit.”

“If you hated me, you’d have no trouble killing me.”

Victor takes another sip of his drink, watching Reed through narrowed eyes. He sets his glass aside then moves closer, his thick boot hard against Reed’s thigh. “What makes you think I’m going to have trouble, Reed?” He reaches down and grabs Reed’s arm, jerking him to his feet. Reed sways slightly, struggling to hold himself upright on limbs that no doubt feel rubbery. Victor laughs. “I have every intention of killing you, Reed. It’s just going to be so much sweeter for having humiliated you first.”

He shoves Reed away from him, watching as he stumbles backwards, hampered by the cuffs and chain at his ankles, tumbling into the straight-backed chair behind him. Reed winces as he lands, hands and wrists caught behind him.

“Think about it, Reed. Your last memory? Your last moment on this earth is going to be here, cuffed to a chair, with nothing but the cold knowledge that you died like this. Smelling of me. With me inside you.” Reed comes over to him, undoing the cuffs and pushing Reed back and then cuffing his wrists to the arms of the chair. “Knowing that you _wanted_ it.”

He feels Reed shiver as he walks behind him and begins hooking up the machine, sliding the needle into Reed’s arm and watching the blue, bright liquid pulse along the tube.

“Frozen in time, Reed. Forever. I think we can safely say this round goes to me, don’t you?”  



End file.
